COMMUNITY CONNECTIONS: A mother's love is unconditional

When I was 12 years old, my friend Little Brian — who got his nickname based on the simple fact that he shared the same name as me, and I was bigger — stood up to the neighborhood bully, an older teenager with a bad-boy reputation and accompanying tattoos. This act of bravery got Little Brian promptly punched in the face, right before this low-rent thug began dismantling our beloved tree fort that we had spent months working on.

We took off to my house, where I informed my mom what had happened to Little Brian, and to the tree fort. Her reaction wasn't a strong one. She subtly nodded her head to acknowledge what we had said, and then promptly left.

We then watched as my mom jumped into her car and sped over to our fallen tree fort to confront the assailant. To this day, I'm not exactly sure of the specifics of what my mom said, but I know it was effective, because anytime we saw the tattooed menace after that, he immediately averted his eyes to the ground and walked right past us. That story soon made its way around the neighborhood, and everybody knew that if anybody messed with any of "Jackie's Boys," there would be hell to pay.

That's just the way my mom was — any friend of mine was a son of hers.

I recall my senior year in high school after catching a movie with my friend Adam; I left him at his house and walked to a pay phone, where I called my mom to get a ride home.

"Adam's going to be living with us for a while," she said, which was bewildering to say the least, considering I had literally just left him at his house.

Unbeknownst to me, in the short amount of time that it took to go from Adam's front door to the pay phone, he had been kicked out of his home; my mother was the first person he thought to call.

My mom always taught me that the concepts of love and family aren't conditional to your bloodline, and that's a value I've carried with me as an adult within my own family.

Although, to be honest, when I first met my better half I was more than a little nervous when I found out that she had two kids, ages 2 and 4. Now, I have spent my career with other people's kids, but this was different; this wasn't running enrichment programs for three hours and then sending them home, this was being responsible for their well-being, teaching them the difference between right and wrong, and shaping who they are as people.

Quite frankly, it scared the crap out of me.

I remember the first time the 4 year old threw a tantrum in Target — I panicked and just started sprinting toward the front door. Their mother should've realized I wasn't cut out for this and left me in the Target parking lot, but, thankfully, she was just as patient with me as she was with them. Slowly, I began to learn.

I watched how she would speak with them, and how she patiently guided them through every big and small challenge in their lives. I began to emulate her style and before long I was falling in love for a second and third time in the same relationship.

The boys are now 6 and 8 years old, and while I never thought I'd be in the role of a parent, I wouldn't trade these past four years for anything, as being a parent has turned out to be the most challenging and rewarding experience of my life. In those rewarding moments I can't help but think of, and be grateful for, the example given to me by my two favorite mothers: the one I grew up with, and the one I share my life with.

Happy Mother's Day to every mom out there — the ones still with us, the ones who have passed on, and the ones who love unconditionally.

Brian S. Millett is the recreation coordinator for the city of Eureka, and writes this column for the Times-Standard. He can be reached at bmillett@ci.eurkea.ca.gov.